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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637451">Despondent Memories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regi/pseuds/Regi'>Regi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sobering Reminders [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Sex, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Finale didn't happen, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Supportive Sam Winchester, Switching, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:13:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regi/pseuds/Regi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanity. For the longest time, protecting humanity was the only thing that mattered. Angels were supposed to watch and protect; they were never meant to get close to humans—to feel human emotions. In doing so, they would compromise themselves. Those emotions were dangerous—deadly, even. And becoming human? That was considered a fate worse than death. But Cas didn’t see it that way.</p><p>Or; the sequel to Sobering Reminders, in which Cas tries to understand the emotions he feels.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sobering Reminders [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Oneshot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm kind of guessing on Ben's age (since the Supernatural timeline is so crystal clear). I hope you all enjoy this pic!</p><p>Special shoutout to my betas: wordsbymeganmichael and butwhatifwedid</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Humanity. For the longest time, protecting humanity was the only thing that mattered. Angels were supposed to watch and protect; they were never meant to get close to humans—to </span>
  <span>feel</span>
  <span> human emotions. In doing so, they would compromise themselves. Those emotions were dangerous—deadly, even. And </span>
  <span>becoming</span>
  <span> human? That was considered a fate worse than death. But Cas didn’t see it that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered what it was like when Metatron robbed him of his grace. The last time he was human was… traumatic. He was so lost and lonely, feeling like his entire worth was stripped away from him. But this time was different—after all, he had Sam and Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’ body was changing rapidly. He was either hungry or tired (or both) all of the time—and the </span>
  <span>bathroom</span>
  <span>. That was a nightmare. How did humans handle the constant need for urination? It was tedious and often occured at the worst possible time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, of course, there were the sexual urges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans really </span>
  <span>craved</span>
  <span> intercourse like nothing else. It was truly fascinating. Cas could be doing something menial—like research or making a sandwich—and he’d suddenly get erect, for no reason whatsoever. Was this normal for a human? He didn’t remember having this problem before. Well, it wasn’t necessarily a </span>
  <span>problem</span>
  <span> (according to Dean, at least). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve had a lot of sex ever since Dean reciprocated his feelings. Cas never understand why humans were so driven by sex, but it was starting to make perfect sense. It was different with Dean—and not just </span>
  <span>technically</span>
  <span> different. He never </span>
  <span>felt </span>
  <span>such emotions when he was with April. Yes, he felt the surge of pleasure, but with Dean… it was a form of closeness that he could’ve never imagined. And every time he experienced that closeness, he just wanted more. Dean found it amusing, saying he “really liked” when Cas was “needy,” and called him an “insatiable, horny teenager” (which made no sense, considering Cas was several million years old and far past adolescence).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, Cas spent most nights in Dean’s room, finding new ways to quell this newfound hunger. He was even able to surprise Dean with a few techniques he picked up from those Casa Erotica videos. They were very enlightening. He also found a few VHS tapes under Dean’s bed, but they were animated and anatomically incorrect. Not to mention the octopi… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grunted next to him, pulling Cas away from his wandering imagination. Dean was still asleep, exhausted from the night’s coupling. He laid in the middle of the bed, flat on his stomach, with his legs spread and his face buried in the pillow he was hugging. Cas was almost proud at how well-devoured his paramour looked, with swollen lips, kiss marks covering his shoulders and trailing down his spine, and the globes of his ass still glowing a dull pink color. And, damnit, he was erect yet again. Dean called it “morning wood,” but Cas didn’t understand what trees had to do with any of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stirred, nuzzling his face further into the pillow. Cas thought it was adorable, but he knew better than to say that out loud. Instead, he leaned down and placed gentle kisses on Dean’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?” Dean hummed, still refusing to open his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little after six,” Cas mused between kisses. “We don’t have to get up just yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damnit, Cas, I’m starting to think you </span>
  <span>want</span>
  <span> to keep me from walking,” he smirked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t…” Cas tilted his head. “Are you sore?” he asked, resting a hand on a pink cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean laughed and rolled onto his back. His hand wrapped around Cas’ neck and he pulled him in for a kiss. “I suppose we have a little time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas kissed his jaw, then his neck, before trailing down to his chest. His tongue swept over a hardening nipple, making Dean groan. Cas continued kissing his way down his chest, dipping his tongue in each curve of muscle. He looked up and met his partner’s eyes (something that is supposed to be a “real turn on,” according to the book he read). Dean hissed when Cas licked the tip of his cock. A firm hand found the back of his neck, encouraging him. Cas took the hint, and took Dean as deep as he could. He kept trying to do the “deep throat” thing (also from that book), but he wasn’t very good at it; all it did was make him gag horribly. The videos made it look so easy, but Dean insisted that it took practice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands found Dean’s hips as he tried to take him deeper. Dean’s hand cupped his chin, forcing Cas to release his throbbing member. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t force yourself,” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rolled his eyes before taking him back into his mouth. He could tell Dean was close and started sucking him earnestly. As Dean came, he arched off the bed slightly, his eyes shut tight, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Cas reached up, lacing their fingers together as Dean rode out his orgasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” he panted, wiping a drop of cum from Cas’ chin. “You’re still—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Cas insisted, crawling back up his lover’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” Dean teased, wrapping his hand around Cas’ length. “Because you don’t seem it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A few short pumps, and Cas already spilled into his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was fast.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas frowned at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean chuckled and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “We should probably get out of here before you catch a second wind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got dressed silently, throwing not-so-subtle glances at each other. Since his return, Cas really hadn’t found a chance to get new clothes, so Dean started casually giving him some of the stuff he “doesn’t wear anymore.” So far, Cas acquired three old T-shirts, a flannel, and two pairs of jeans that were a little too big on him. Dean always looked so happy whenever Cas wore his clothes—especially the flannel—but he didn’t quite understand why. (None of his books explained that. They also didn’t explain Dean’s speech about “not labeling their relationship,” but he digressed). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had fallen into a pretty simple routine. Cas would always leave the bedroom first, just before the others would wake up. Dean still hadn’t told Sam about their newly intimate relationship, although Cas was pretty sure Sam already </span>
  <span>knew</span>
  <span>. Regardless, he wanted to respect Dean’s wishes and kept their partnership “behind closed doors.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since he was always the first one up, Cas was responsible for starting the coffee. He had a lot of experience making coffee at the Gas-n-Sip (he actually kind of enjoyed making it). However, he still wasn’t sure if he liked the taste—it was so </span>
  <span>bitter</span>
  <span>.  Tea was much more enjoyable, especially with a little fresh honey. Ideal, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dean said, walking into the kitchen. He filled a mug with the dark liquid and winced at the temperature when it hit his tongue before searching for a pan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled, leaning on the counter. It was the moments like this that made him inexplicably happy. He loved to watch Dean cook pancakes and make a mess of the counter.  Or how he would hum Led Zeppelin songs while he mixed the batter. And how, no matter what, he always prepared Sam’s food first (Cas suspected this was a subconscious habit). Then he’d always wipe his messy hands on his jeans, no matter how many times Sam told him to use a towel. These were the things Cas missed—the things he would never take for granted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean passed by him, brushing his hand against the curve of Cas’ ass. Cas began to say something but was cut off by Sam and Eileen walking into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” Sam grumbled, plopping on a stool at the counter. “You’re up early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolled his eyes and placed full plates in front of his brother and Eileen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen looked at Cas and smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she grinned. “I just like your shirt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you?” he questioned, furrowing his brow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean cleared his throat. “How are they?” he asked Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re pancakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Dean. They're fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, they’re better than fine. They’re—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “I think your phone…” he added, pointing to the library. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rushed out of the room, probably scampering to find the correct phone before the caller hung up. Cas moved over to the pan, successfully flipping two of the remaining pancakes (and dropping the third one onto the stove). Sam chuckled, but quickly pretended to cough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Cas looked back up, Dean was standing in the doorway with the phone at his ear, his face drained of color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lisa?” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________ </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dean snapped the phone shut and sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?” Sam asked cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you erased their memories,” he barked, glaring at Cas. “Because, all of a sudden, she remembers me. What we </span>
  <span>do</span>
  <span>. What the hell, man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’ eyes went wide. “I don’t understand…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you don’t,” Dean grumbled, storming out of the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean never spoke about Lisa and Ben—not after everything went down—and he certainly didn’t bring it up to his new lover. Cas knew any mention of them brought back horrible memories of the things he did. He wondered if Dean still blamed him for everything that happened. After all, Ben and Lisa…they were his family—his shot at a normal life—and they were taken from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go,” Dean said, returning in his coat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, woah, wait,” Sam interjected, standing up. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “One of Ben’s friends went missing for a few days, came back home, and killed both of his parents.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” Sam squinted. “And, I know it’s Lisa—and I get it, but since when is this our kind of case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going” Dean snapped, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “End of discussion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go with you,” Cas suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I think you’ve done enough,” Dean snapped. His face immediately softened, but he said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” Sam said softly. “You don’t get a choice this time. We’ll be ready in five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The drive was long and silent. Eileen decided to stay at the bunker, instead offering to drive out if they needed any extra help. Cas suspected that she was just trying to avoid the awkward car ride. Dean was clearly frustrated (he never played music when he was upset). Sam tried to start a conversation more than once, but he gave up when he realized he was just talking to himself. And Cas just sat silently. Understanding the emotions of others certainly wasn’t his strong suit, but he was pretty sure Dean didn’t want him there. Knowing that made his insides churn in a way he’d never felt before. Possibly indigestion?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. He was obviously angry, but there was something else. Fear, maybe? But what was he afraid of? Seeing Lisa again after all of these years? That she nearly died because of her relationship with him? Or maybe…maybe he still had feelings for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas didn’t want to think about that. He always knew there was a possibility that this relationship—whatever it was—would come to an end. Dean never stayed with the same partner for an extended period of time. At first, Cas thought it was worth it. He would take whatever he could get in their short time together and, when Dean eventually wanted to discontinue their physical partnership, he would. It would be painful—like every time he was separated from Dean—but he would manage. He just didn’t think it would happen so soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled into the driveway and Cas’ indigestion returned. The engine subsided and Dean popped open the creaky Impala door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait here,” he grumbled, slamming the door shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean walked up to the door alone, leaving Sam and Cas to sit together in an awkward silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam cleared his throat. “I know he seems…” he sighed. “He’s just—he’ll get over it. He always does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded slightly, not taking his gaze from the couple at the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa was beautiful. Cas had seen her before, many years ago. Once, when first tried to find Dean (after his first resurrection), and again when he healed her in the hospital. And he remembered how Dean looked in those instances: content with his new life and then devastated, knowing he would never have that again. But it was different this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was smiling—a real, elated smile. Normally, that look would make Cas feel joy, but not this time. No, this felt like…like something was stabbing him in the chest repeatedly. It was far from pleasant. Dean chuckled at something, nervously scratching the back of his head, and the stabbing pain got worse. Cas thought it might actually be worse than being possessed by Lucifer. Much, much worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean finally turned to face the car and waved for the others to join him. They followed Lisa into a spacious living room. The walls were decorated with photographs, mostly of Ben at various stages of adolescence. There were a few more recent family portraits, featuring Lisa, Ben, and a man Cas didn’t recognize. Judging by the wedding picture, he could only assume he was Lisa’s new husband. For some reason, Cas found that reassuring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lisa, you remember my brother Sam. And this,” Dean said, pointing at Cas, “is Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa took Cas’ hand and gave it a firm shake. Her hand was soft and she was, truly, very beautiful. He could feel his own cheeks redden when she smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Over there is my son, Ben,” she added, gesturing towards the teen sitting on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben took a moment to glare at the three men before looking back at the floor. He never said a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your husband?” Cas asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean kicked the back of his shoe, but Cas didn’t quite understand why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa laughed. “Mark’s out of town right now. My mother-in-law fell and broke her hip, and he went to stay with her for a few days. Wanted to make sure she wouldn’t overdo it as soon as she got out of the hospital.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very thoughtful,” Cas observed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Dean said, sitting in a chair opposite of Ben. “You’ve really grown up, kid. Yo gotta be—what—eighteen now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m seventeen,” the boy said flatly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa rolled her eyes. “He’ll be eighteen next month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you even remembered,” Ben grumbled. “Since you made </span>
  <span>us</span>
  <span> forget everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben,” his mother warned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Dean insisted. “Look, I know this is hard to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what I remember?” the teen snapped. “I remember you abandoning us, nearly getting mom killed, and then—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then you abandoned us again. What, were we no longer convenient enough for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benjamin,” Lisa barked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine,” Dean swallowed. “Fill me in. What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cocked her head towards the kitchen, and the three hunters followed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last week, Ben’s friend—best friend, really—Lucas, he went missing,” she said quietly. “The cops thought he was just out partying or something, but…Dean. I’ve known Lucas for years. He’s a good kid and I don’t think he would just run away without saying anything. And then, a few nights ago, he called Ben, sobbing—begging for help and when he got there…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He killed them with a crowbar, Dean. They’re heads were just…gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam exhaled. “Did Lucas have any troubles at home? Recent arguments with his parents or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s just it,” Lisa continued. “He loved his parents. They were always so supportive, no matter what. They treated Ben like a second son. And, Lucas, he said he doesn’t remember doing it. He doesn’t even remember disappearing. That’s weird, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, a little—” Sam began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you guys handle weird, </span>
  <span>right</span>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll look into it,” Dean interrupted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam huffed and glared at his brother. “Right. Does Ben have any more information on Lucas? Old texts, emails, anything that could be relevant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably, yes. Ben,” she called, “get them whatever they need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben mumbled something under his breath before leading Sam and Dean upstairs, leaving Cas and Lisa alone in the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas felt an odd discomfort, being alone with her. He wasn’t sure what that meant, either. The more human he became, the less he understood .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get you anything?” Lisa asked sweetly. “Tea or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I’m fine. But thank you,” Cas said. “Actually, I was wondering if you could answer a few questions. About your new memories, that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, sure. Ask away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These memories,” he asked softly, “how did they return?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Lisa said, ringing her hands. “At first, I thought they were just nightmares, you know? And then Ben started having them, too. It was like they were hidden behind a…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wall?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Just like a wall. So I started speaking with a psychiatrist, and she thought that they were repressed memories. I obviously didn’t give her all of the details—I didn’t want her to think I was crazy. And then, when I heard what happened to Lucas, I thought I’d try the phone number.” She stopped and smiled. “I remembered Dean’s phone number. I thought, if it was all real, he might actually pick up. And he did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “And you husband? He knows about all of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does,” she sighed. “At first, I think he thought I was going nuts. But he trusts me. And he trusts that I know what I saw. That’s all that really matters, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled weakly. “Do you remember when the first nightmare was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, like the date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you remember it, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned. “I don’t. But if I had to guess, I’d say a year ago? Maybe a little more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damnit</span>
  <span>, he thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas,” Dean called, stomping down the stairs. “We’re heading out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They found a motel a few miles away from Lisa’s house and decided to stay there for the evening. Sam had already made plans to visit Lucas in the hospital the following morning, to see if he could give them more information. Dean, on the other hand, was still in an unpleasant mood. Cas wondered if Ben had said something else to him while they were upstairs, but he didn’t dare ask. He wished the boy knew just how much Dean loved him and his mother—how Dean was willing to give up his own happiness to keep Ben and Lisa safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they got into the room, Dean froze. It was a standard motel room, with two double beds and a single table. But Cas knew what the problem was. When he offered to sleep on the floor, Sam looked more offended than anything. He insisted on calling the main office and having a folding bed sent to the room. Cas was appreciative—he really was—but he couldn’t help but notice Sam’s exasperation and Dean’s general discomfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go grab some food,” Sam huffed, grabbing the keys of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go with you,” Dean said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Sam barked. “No, you should stay here. I’ll be back in a few.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slammed the door in Dean’s face, leaving the older brother wide eyed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you believe him?” Dean scoffed. “Cas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Cas hummed, sitting on the folding bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never mind,” he sighed. “I gotta ask, man. Do you have any idea how they got their memories back? Any at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shrugged. “I don’t have anything concrete.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A hypothesis, at most.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath. “Lisa, she said she started remembering things a year ago. Which is—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The same time you came back,” Dean concluded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas bit his lip. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shook his head. “Cas, did you do this? Did you…</span>
  <span>make</span>
  <span> them remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he whispered. “No, I don’t think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t </span>
  <span>think</span>
  <span>?” Dean barked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that simple, Dean. I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean scoffed. “You’re millions of years old and you’ve </span>
  <span>never</span>
  <span> heard anything like this? All those years of angel radio and nothing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you can't help, then why the hell did you come along?!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Cas bellowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean took a step back, astounded. He didn’t know what to say and stared at him in silence. There were thoughts running through his head, running wild and in every direction, but he didn't trust himself to get any of them out without making things worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They really hadn’t fought like this in a long time. Not since Cas came back from the Empty. Dean also hadn’t been this angry in a long time, and even when he was, he was making an effort not to show it. There were probably unresolved feelings relating to Lisa and Ben, and Cas’ involvement in that whole mess. And this case—if it even was a case—was ripping open those old wounds yet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need some air,” Dean grumbled, opening the door and slamming it shut before Cas could even answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sam took an exceptionally long time bringing food back. Cas suspected he found Dean outside and they talked or went to a bar or something. He was actually thankful for the time alone. It gave him time to think about everything that was happening…everything he had done that led to this point. He supposed it was his fault for never really thinking about Lisa and Ben. Before, he would’ve said it was just because he thought Dean wanted to leave them in the past, but now, he questioned his true motives. Never addressing Dean’s loss was just part of Cas’ own selfish desires. It let him live in a fantasy, where he could pretend he didn’t completely destroy everything Dean had worked for. And there were all of these emotions. They felt much stronger now that he had become fully human. The stabbing pain in his chest returned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it seemed to make it worse. His eyes grew watery and he bit his bottom lip. It was a very new sensation for him. In all of his very long life, he could only recall crying once before, and that was when he…when he thought it was all over. But this was different—it was </span>
  <span>painful</span>
  <span>.  He supposed it was what humans referred to as “heartache” even though there was no ailment in his physical heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to sleep through it, but it was impossible. Between the emotional distress and the fold-out’s springs assaulting his spine, he couldn’t get comfortable. Instead he just stared at the ceiling (and sometimes the wall), hoping to succumb to sleep’s merciful embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shut his eyes when Sam and Dean finally walked through the door, hoping they would believe him to be asleep. They spoke in hushed voices, but Cas could still understand some of what they were saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still can’t believe you made him sleep on </span>
  <span>that</span>
  <span>,” Sam whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t. He shouldn’t even be here and you know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, man. I’m gonna shower,” Sam added, clearly exasperated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas heard the bathroom door shut, then some rustling fabric, which he assumed to be Dean crawling into bed. Cas could hear his restless shifting—and he desperately wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. So long as they were here, working this case, nothing would relieve the tension they were feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The following day, Sam and Dean went to the hospital to question Lucas and follow up on leads, leaving Cas to watch Lisa’s house. There was really no reason for him to stay behind and babysit. After all, it’s not like Lucas went after any of them. Cas suspected it was their way of “keeping him occupied” so he wouldn’t “infringe” on the case. Around dusk, he received one text from Dean, which said: </span>
  <span>Possible possession. Gonna check the house.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was about to call it a night when he finally saw something out of the ordinary. Ben crept out of the door, looking around to make sure no one was watching. He had something stuffing in the front of his sweatshirt and he was hugging it close to his chest, as he made his way around the fence and down the alleyway. It was certainly suspicious, and that he was supposed to look out for, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about contacting Dean, but why bother him? After all, Cas shouldn’t even be here. But he wasn’t bitter. He was above that. Instead, he just followed Ben to the nearby skatepark. The teen didn’t even go past the gates. No, he just sat on the ground and unzipped his sweatshirt, revealing three bottles of beer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben sniffled and wiped the tears from his face before opening one of the bottles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben?” Cas asked softly, hoping not to startle the boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t work. Ben looked like he’d seen a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell my mom,” he said, weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I won’t?” Cas offered, tilting his head. “May I?” he asked, sitting next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben shrugged. “I don’t really care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “Are, uh…are you feeling alright?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you joking? My best friend just murdered his parents. My head’s a mess. And then you guys show up and… I didn’t want my mom to call Dean. I really didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you’re going through,” Cas said calmly, “remembering an entire life you never knew existed, it’s painful, to say the least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben gave a half-hearted laugh. “So now you’re an expert.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no. But I have lost my memories before, only to get them back and realize…it certainly complicates things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed. “Would you like to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what? Lucas? Dean? Life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything, really,” Cas shrugged. “I’m told I am an excellent listener.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben took another sip of his beer. “What’s there to talk about? What, you really want to hear about my daddy issues?” he sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I happen to have a decent understanding of those as well. My father, he was…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A deadbeat?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not what I expected him to be. I thought he loved, well, everything unconditionally. But in the end, he nearly destroyed everyone I’ve ever cared about. He saw nothing but his “big picture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben furrowed his brow. “So, he’s a narcissist?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas chuckled. “I guess so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy nodded. “You know, I always thought I didn’t have a dad. I mean, I knew I </span>
  <span>had</span>
  <span> one, but all my life it’s just been me and my mom. And when I started to remember things—remember Dean—I was so mad. Because he was like a dad to me. He was the closest thing I ever had to that and then, what? He just took it all away? Like it was his call or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not—it’s much more complicated than you think. Dean, he…he loves you and your mother. Leaving, and having your memories erased…he didn’t do those things because he wanted to. He did them to protect you. And that decision broke his heart in ways he never imagined. Giving up a child is never easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make it right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it doesn’t. But we don’t always think clearly when it comes to the ones we love. I have made my fair share of poor decisions—ones that had disastrous consequences—all in the name of protecting the people I care about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Ben said. “How bad are we talking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas frowned at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, I’m kidding. Here,” he said, handing Cas an unopened bottle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a sip and beer still tasted horrible. “Don’t think your lack of a father figure deterred your growth as a man. You seem well adjusted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess. I mean, my mom’s great. I used to think maybe she regretted me, you know? But she always insisted that I was 'the greatest thing that ever happened to her,' if you can believe that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” Cas smiled. “Parenthood is very rewarding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you have kids?” Ben pried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A son. Jack. I don’t really get to see him anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What. Did you have a falling out or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, Jack is in Heaven now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ben mumbled. “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be. The last I saw him, he was doing quite well. He’s a great leader—much better than my father ever was. I’m very proud of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben nodded slowly, obviously puzzled. “Right…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have faith in Heaven,” Cas mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I say something funny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he insisted, waving his hand. “That’s the same crap Lucas always said. His family was really religious. And anytime he had a problem, he always said it was in “heaven's hands,” whatever that meant. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love God as much as the next guy, but man. He really believed in that. And he still managed to kill his parents. How does that even happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas thought about it for a moment, before his eyes went wide. “We should get you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to get Ben home safely before he reached out to Sam and Dean. Cas was pretty sure he knew what they were dealing with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________ </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The original plan was to sneak Ben back into the house without his mother noticing he was ever gone. As much as Cas enjoyed their conversation, he was pretty sure Lisa wouldn’t appreciate him drinking with her seventeen-year-old son. Said plan was, of course, derailed when they saw the Impala parked in front of the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they got inside, Dean was sitting on the couch, shirtless, while Lisa cleaned a cut on his shoulder. Sam leaned against the banister, icing his eye and looking less than amused at the current situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where have you been?” Lisa asked, walking over to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, seriously, Cas,” Dean added. “I called you multiple times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Cas said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I think the battery is dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa brushed some dirt off of Ben’s back. “I thought you were upstairs—and do I smell </span>
  <span>beer</span>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The color drained from Ben’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” Cas said, clearing his throat. “I bought him a drink, not knowing he was underage. My mistake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam bit back a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Lisa said, looking at him in disbelief. “Go to your room,” she added, turning towards her son. “And don’t think this conversation is over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without protest, Ben did as he was told. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a terrible liar,” Lisa said, turning back towards Cas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked, stepping around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you attacked?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you consider tripping over a stationary object an attack,” Sam added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean frowned. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You…?” Cas began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was distracted,” Sam sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Dean said, standing up and grabbing his shirt. “Thank you for patching me up.” He smiled at Lisa. “But we should get out of your hair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no trouble at all,” she replied, pulling him into a hug. “Keep me updated, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole interaction reminded Cas just how uncomfortable he was. He almost forgot about the painful feelings he had experienced most of the day (talking with Ben was a nice “change of pace”). But they all came flooding back as the three men piled into the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I have a lead,” Cas said, trying to distract himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? How?” Sam asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something Ben said. He mentioned that Lucas was a very devout Christain. And unless you found evidence of demonic possession—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could be angelic,” Dean finished. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would an angel want to go all Lizzy Borden on a random kid’s parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually—” Sam began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know. It was a crowbar, not an ax. Can you not be a psycho killer fangirl for, like, five minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s possible,” Cas continued. “Jack let the angels have free will. And although it’s been successful for most, there could be a deviant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But wouldn’t Lucas remember being possessed?” Sam asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless the angel made him forget,” Dean concluded softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why wouldn’t Jack try to reign him in? If it’s an angel doing all off this—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He won’t get involved if he doesn’t have to,” Cas stated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Dean agreed, pulling into the motel parking lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they got out of the car, Sam and Dean glanced at each other, as if they were trying to speak. Then, Sam nodded his head and walked towards their room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, can I talk to you for a sec?” Dean asked, leaning against the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Dean scratched the back of his head and waited until Sam was out of sight. “You bought Ben a beer?” he asked mockingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas scowled. “I did not. I just didn’t want to get him in trouble. Although, I don’t think I was as effective as I’d hoped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked at him tenderly. “No, I don’t think so,” he chuckled. “Look, Cas, I , uh…I’m not very good at this. And I just—sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas cocked his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” he continued, clearing his throat. “I know I said some things and, uh…I know it’s not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My fault?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With Ben and Lisa. I just—they went through a lot because of me and now they’re going to have to deal with it all over again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded slowly. “You care about them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do. They are—they were my family for a while. You know, they gave me everything and I gave them living nightmares.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ones that were subsequently caused by my actions,” Cas added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas leaned against the car, leaving a wide space between them. “I pulled a corrupted Sam out of Hell. Because of that, you became a monster and almost hurt them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And my allyship with Crowley led to their kidnapping. Lisa nearly died because of my carelessness. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing, but deep down I was willing to go through any lengths necessary to protect you and Sam. Even if that meant hurting you in the process.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not proud of those actions. I thought I could somehow atone for them by coming here and helping but…” he paused. “I know now that it’s impossible—and I understand why you don’t want me here. It makes everything much more complicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Dean said, crossing his arms. “So you heard that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked at the ground. “Yes. If you’d like, I can find a bus schedule and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, that’s not…Jesus, Cas. There was a time where, yeah, I blamed you. You made some really stupid decisions and people got hurt. But I’ve done it, too. So has Sam. And every time something like that has happened, you’ve been there to help us fix it. So if you think you still need to 'atone for your sins,' I assure you, we’re long past that. I’m not mad at you. Hell, I’m not mad at anyone, I’m just…mad,” Dean breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas gave him a half-smile. “You’re allowed to be angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but…” He licked his lips. “Come here for a sec,” he added, opening the back door of the Impala. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bewildered, Cas did as he was told. He slid into the car and Dean followed him, shutting the squeaking door behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s hands cupped Cas’ face as he brought their lips together. Cas leaned into him, lovingly draping his arms over Dean’s shoulders. He hissed when he made contact with his wound, and Cas quickly removed his arm; and he wrapped his hand around his lover’s head, letting his fingers tangle in dark blonde locks. Without breaking apart, Dean leaned back, pulling Cas on top of him. His hands moved to the collar of Cas’ shirt, massaging the well-worn fabric between his fingers, before slowly opening  the buttons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean placed his palm over his lover’s chest, gracefully stroking every curve of muscle. Cas’s hand wandered under the hem of Dean’s T-shirt, fingers tracing over the thin trail of hair while he palmed him through the tight denim. Frustrated by Cas’ slow pace, Dean reached for his partner’s belt, freeing Cas’ straining erection.  Intent on teasing him, Cas made no effort to reciprocate, bringing his hands back up Dean’s arms. His hand found the handprint—his handprint—that was scarred into the tanned flesh, and smiled. When he was still an angel, the mark made him feel prideful and possessive, as if it was his way of telling the other angels that Dean Winchester belonged to him and him alone. But now, as a human, it made him unusually delighted—because, if they were ever apart, it was like Dean carried a piece of Cas with him. Sometimes, when they copulated, he would place hand upon the mark while Dean cried out beneath him. It gave them an intimate closeness unlike any other—more than just sex, they’d be connected by their first touch as well.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas placed his hands on either side of Dean’s head and propped himself up, smiling at those beautiful green eyes. The man beneath him grew frustrated, finally reaching for his own belt, mumbling curses under his breath. Cas kissed his lips again, before trailing hot kisses along his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re making this really difficult,” Dean grumbled, struggling to get his own pants past his hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas continued kissing his neck, willfully ignoring his half-hearted protests. “Would you rather I be on the receiving end?” he asked between pecks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had only tried that once before, and Dean rather enjoyed it. In fact, he was very happy with the arrangement. Cas, on the other hand, felt “out of his element” and wouldn’t exactly call it a successful interaction. It was his fault. After all, he suggested it in the shower—but, in his defense, he never expected to do it right there, in the stall. He wanted to try it in their bed, facing Dean so he could wrap his arms around him and hold him tight—similar to when their roles were reversed. It was something that was apparently called “missionary position,” but it perplexed him. What kind of missions involved coitus, face to face? Perhaps he was romanticizing it too much.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends,” Dean chucked. “Are you gonna start yelling in Enochian again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sat back and frowned. “It was an unexpected sensation and it caught me off-guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed again. “Nah, this is good. And, hey,” he warned. “No hickey’s this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rolled his eyes, but Dean didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to shuffle out of his pants, giving up after one leg was free and leaving the fabric massed around his other ankle. He then gave Cas a wicked grin, twisted his fingers in his dark curls, and pulled him back for another kiss. His free hand traveled to his partner’s stiff member, stroking the full length.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Cas stammered, moving Dean’s hand. “I don’t have any lubricant. Although, I suppose I could use my mouth. The books mentioned saliva as an adequate alternative if done correctly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Cas,” Dean gulped, his face turning bright red. He covered his face with his arm, trying to hide his embarrassment. “No. I mean, </span>
  <span>yes</span>
  <span>—definitely yes—but not here. Hand me my wallet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas reached over the front seat, groping aimlessly until he found Dean’s beaten, leather wallet. Once in hand, Dean pulled out a condom and a travel pack of KY jelly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You carry that in your wallet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned. “I like to be prepared. Here, put it on,” he ordered, handing the condom to Cas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Cas did as he was told whilst watching Dean prepare himself. He never mentioned it before, but moments like this—where Dean was on his back, with his eyes shut, biting his lip, and stretching himself—they made Cas’ desire stir more than anything else. He was starting to understand why Dean could watch hours of pornography; sometimes, the sights were just breathtaking. Cas desperately wanted to touch himself—and he knew Dean would happily watch—but he couldn’t, for fear that he would release before they even started. A strong arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him so close that he could feel Dean’s breath tickling his ear.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you waiting for?” Dean mused, nipping at his lobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s hand wrapped around Dean’s thigh, bending him and further exposing his hole. He lined himself up with the slick opening and pressed in with one, slow thrust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as the tip breached the tight ring of muscle, he paused. “Am I hurting you?” he whimpered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gonna ask every time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. “Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean kissed his jawline before nuzzling into the crook of Cas’ neck. “Nah,” he rasped. “I want all of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas swallowed before easing himself in until his hips rested against Dean’s bare skin. And they stayed like that for a moment. It was actually Cas’ favorite part of having sex. The initial closeness he felt when they first connected, completely inside of the man he loves—it was like two souls becoming one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started rocking his hips and, judging by Dean’s growl, was hitting the “sweet spot.” Each movement sent a wave of electricity through him. It was truly a unique sensation—one he only ever felt with Dean. And the beautiful man beneath him was meeting him on every thrust. His arms wrapped around his back, fingers tangling in the white fabric of his shirt, and his heel digging into Cas’ hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean groaned in his ear, and it might’ve been the most beautiful thing Cas had ever heard. He loved the sounds Dean made when they were together. He loved how he looked. He just loved him. And he wished these moments would never end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they snuck back into the motel room, Sam was already asleep with the lights off. Cas and Dean didn’t get much of a chance to sleep, because the phone rang within minutes of them walking in. There was another murder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crime scene was a few miles down the road and was already swarming with local police. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you boys?” one officer asked, blocking their view of the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, actually,” Dean said, showing his faux FBI badge. “I’m Agent Young. These are my associates, Agent Stills and Agent Angus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys are FBI?” the officer challenged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Sam added. “What can you tell us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The officer looked at them sceptically. “Elizabeth Angles, sixteen-years-old, came home from soccer practice and beat her parents to death,” he said, leading them inside. “Watch where you step.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood trailed through the doorway and over to the couch, where the mother’s body was found. Like the other victims, her head was smashed beyond recognition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She beat their heads in with this,” he added, holding up a bagged meat tenderiser. “And then claimed she didn’t remember doing it. If you ask me, she’s all kinds of crazy. Dad was found in the kitchen and it’s…not pretty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Sam nodded. “Mind if we take a look around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knock yourselves out. Just don’t touch anything,” he said, leaving them alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure this isn’t demonic?” Sam asked, looking closer at the body. “Because this is very…not angel-y.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continued talking, but Cas tuned them out. He walked to the kitchen and saw the second body, bloody and broken. By the looks of it, Elizabeth must’ve pinned her father on his stomach before crushing the back of his head—and she kept hitting him long after he was dead. This attack was full of rage. Using a pencil, he lifted the man’s collar and saw exactly what he expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” Cas called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” he ordered, showing the blood-soaked clerical collar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a pastor,” Sam concluded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “That’s not the only problem. Here,” he said, handing a picture frame to Cas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a picture of Elizabeth in her soccer uniform, but Cas couldn’t understand the significance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She goes to Ben’s school. Just like Lucas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They decided to split up, looking for some attempt at finding the rogue angel. Sam had gone to visit Lucas again, hoping he could remember saying “yes” to a cosmic entity. Dean went to the hospital to speak with Elizabeth (once she was no longer sedated), and he asked Cas to check in on Ben and Lisa (again). He insisted it was because Cas and Ben bonded and not because he didn’t want Cas in the line of fire, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. Lisa was very hospitable—and sitting in the house was much nicer than sitting on the metal bench across the street. Ben stayed home from school again, struggling to process the horrific killings of another family. Cas tried speaking with him once, but Ben didn’t even open his door. He just said “go away” (he was very similar to Dean in that aspect). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Lisa asked, sitting across from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” she said, shifting awkwardly. “Can I ask you something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is going to sound awkward, but…how is Dean doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand,” he said, tilting his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” she clarified, wringing her hands. “He seems different—and I know it’s been a long time—but it’s like he’s…he seems so defeated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas took a deep breath. “He’s been through a lot these past few years. He’s lost a lot of people he really cared about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems to come with the territory,” Lisa scoffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What he does—hunting—it isn’t easy. It requires a lot of personal sacrifice. It’s full of death and despair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why do it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled tenderly. “He helps people, and he saves lives. He’s saved mine on more than one occasion. Dean doesn’t realize it, but he really cares about the world. And he keeps fighting for it—no matter what kind of losses he’s had—because he loves helping people. Because saving even one life is worth risking it all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, that’s…” Lisa trailed off. “I’ve never really thought about it like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was a time where I didn’t either,” Cas mused. “But he has taught me that humanity is worth saving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really care about him,” she observed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—” he began, but was cut off by his cell phone’s ring. “Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, hey, the hospital was a bust. Lizzie’s on mandated psych hold for the next three days—no one in or out, unless they’re medical staff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Sam?” Cas asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doorbell rang, and Lisa signaled that she would be right back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam finished with Lucas. Kid still isn’t talking. I feel like we’re missing something here,” Dean continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, we regroup and plan our next moves. I’ll be there in a bit,” he finished, hanging up the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Castiel,” came a smooth voice. He turned to see another woman standing behind Lisa, with an angel blade to her throat. “It’s been a long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rose slowly, dropping his own blade out of his sleeve. He didn’t recognize the vessel—she was a tall woman, with long black hair wrapped in a tight bun. And he could only assume she was possessed by an angel, but he could no longer see it’s true form. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know who you are,” he said. “Now, let her go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who, this?” the angel asked, using the tip of her blade to slide Lisa’s cheek. “I have to be honest, I’m a little hurt. After all, I served under you. I </span>
  <span>admired</span>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it dawned on him. “Tzaphiel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He remembers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dead? Like the rest of your flight? No, Castiel. No, I am very much alive.”</span>
</p><p><span>He stared at her in disbelief. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“You’re a hard man to find. Though I suppose running around with the Winchesters has that effect. Then I thought, why go through the trouble of finding </span><span>you</span><span>, when I can just make you come to me,” Tzaphiel sneered, pulling Lisa’s head back and exposing her neck. “All it took was bringing back a few memories and giving you something </span><span>crazy</span><span> to investigate, and bam! Here you are.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“You’ve hurt so many people. Innocent people,” Cas said. “Why are you doing this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave a hollow laugh. “You’re joking, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you took something from me, Castiel. And I’m going to do the same to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You,” she said, aiming the blade at him, “cast us out of Heaven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas glanced to his right and noticed Ben at the top of the stairs. “I didn’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know how many angels </span>
  <span>died</span>
  <span> during the Fall? How many died fighting your war with Raphael? Or how many you’ve slaughtered with your own hands?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tzaphiel,” he whispered, taking a step towards her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” she barked with a shaky voice. “Uriel is dead. Balthazar is dead. My brothers—my friends—are all dead because of </span>
  <span>you</span>
  <span>. It’s only fitting that you pay the same price.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom?” Ben whimpered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tzaphiel turned to look at him, giving Cas time to shove Lisa towards the steps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run!” he yelled, swinging his blade at Tzaphiel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She caught his wrist and shoved him over the back of the couch. He crashed into the coffee table, blood pouring from his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem weak, brother,” the angel laughed. “Out of practice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rose and charged at Tzaphiel again, only to feel her fist collide with his face. He hit her back, but didn’t even leave a mark. He was really getting sick of this whole “human strength” thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted him by his collar and threw him into the wall, causing the picture frames to fall on his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, Castiel,” she mocked, squatting beside him. “You look terrible. If I had to guess, I’d say you were—” She made a small cut along his collarbone, “—human.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hit him in the face again. And again. He could feel his eye swelling shut, and consciousness slowly slipping away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, now,” she warned, grabbing him by the hair and forcing his eyes to meet hers. “We can’t have you getting all sleepy. I want you to see what I do to your little pets. Here,” she added, picking up his angel blade. “Hold this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thrust the blade through his left shoulder, pinning him to the wall. He cried out only to be met by more laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still shaking from the blood loss, Cas began drawing a sigil on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Tzaphiel chided, stomping on his hand. “We can’t have any of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel his hand crack under the pressure and he yelped. His head was growing heavier and all he wanted to do was sleep—but he couldn’t. He could hear the purr of the Impala pulling into the driveway. Cas had to do something. He had to warn them. But it was futile. The last thing he heard was someone kicking in the door before it all went black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean…”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cas couldn’t recall everything that happened afterwards. He remembered Dean’s hands holding his bloody head while Sam yanked the blade out of his shoulder. And being held in Dean’s arms as Sam sped to the hospital. He probably bled all over the seats—and Dean had </span>
  <span>just</span>
  <span> cleaned them. But when he woke up, he was in a hospital. His hand was bandaged and his arm in a sling. The puncture wound hurt like—well, like a bitch. And his head…what he would give to still have his healing abilities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean slept in the chair beside him, arms crossed, with his feet propped on the edge of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tried to sit up, but was stopped by a sharp pain radiating through his side. Dean must have heard him groan, because when Cas looked over, he was met with wide, green eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he beamed, removing his feet from the bed. “How’re you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like crap,” Cas grunted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled. “Yeah, that’s fair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lisa? And Ben?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re alright. Well, as alright as they can be, considering. Although she wasn’t too happy about the blood and all. Sam offered to help her clean up, but she wanted us to leave before the cops showed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Tzaphiel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Handled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry,” he said somberly, looking off to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean scoffed. “For what? You did good today, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tzaphiel was only there because of me. And she hurt so many people…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s not on you,” he insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” Cas rasped. “Lisa and Ben, they wouldn’t have to deal with those memories again. If I hadn’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop, Cas,” he said firmly. “Just stop. Lisa and Ben…they’ll be okay. Right now, you need to focus on getting better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it,” he said standing up. “Take it easy. Enjoy the drugs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas laughed, then winced. “They aren’t nearly as effective as I’d hoped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled at him again, running his fingers through Cas’ hair. “I think shaving’s gonna be a bitch for a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could grow a beard?” he suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could pull it off,” Dean added, pressing a light kiss against Cas’ busted lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone cleared their throat, and Cas looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway. Dean pulled away, glared at his brother, and mouthed “really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Sam said, looking upwards and away from the other two. “You’re awake. Good. Thanks for telling me, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just gonna…go call Lisa and let her know Cas is okay,” he said, awkwardly backing out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked at his paramour, worried that he would be upset. “I’m sorry, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Dean questioned. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The door. It’s still open, and you said you wanted to keep intimacy behind closed doors only.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Dean bit back a laugh. “I did say that, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand. Why are you laughing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No reason,” he said, placing another kiss on Cas’ forehead. “None at all.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Deleted Scene</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a little deleted scene I wrote in Dean's POV. This takes place in the middle of the story. Enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean sat on Lisa’s couch, holding a damp rag to the cut on his shoulder. Lisa, bless her heart, offered to wash his jacket and shirt for him since the motel didn’t have a washing machine. It really wasn’t that bad; there was a circle of blood that the size of his fist on the shoulder, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was mild. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam (</span>
  <em>
    <span>that ass</span>
  </em>
  <span>) leaned against the railing, holding a pink ice pack against his swelling eye. And Dean wasn’t about to apologize for it. He just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go butting into situations that had nothing to do with him. He had it coming (at least, that’s what Dean thought, in a shallow attempt at making himself feel like the bigger person). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were searching the house (the kitchen, to be more specific), Sam had the </span>
  <em>
    <span>audacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell him he was treating Cas horribly—and he was right, but there was no way Dean would admit that. He knew this whole memory debacle wasn’t Cas’ fault, and even if it was, it wasn’t intentional. And he shouldn’t have said the things he did—but, damnit, he was so angry. Dean had moved on from Lisa and Ben and all of the pain that came with leaving them. He knew it was a mistake to erase their memories in the first place. At the time, he thought it was the only way to keep them safe, but…he just had to wonder who he was really protecting. And he asked Cas to do it because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>the angel wouldn’t say no—not when he felt that guilty. In reality, Dean took advantage of Cas’ wayward emotions, because he never really could say no to his favorite human. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam told him to apologize—and Dean needed to—but it wasn’t that simple. It never was. And Sam couldn’t just let it go—no. He had to open his big mouth and say something completely uncalled for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is that why you’re making him sleep in a different bed?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean froze. “Excuse me?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s kind of petty, don’t you think? And really passive aggressive.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean insisted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh-huh, sure,” Sam scoffed. “Come on, man. This is getting ridiculous.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean opened the cabinet above the sink, ignoring his brother.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look, I’ve been trying to give you guys space—I really have—but it’s been </span>
  </em>
  <span>months.</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Still have no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy,” Dean retorted, slamming the cabinet shut. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Right,” Sam nodded. “Because it was easier when Cas didn’t need to sleep.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean scowled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Even when he started turning human, he didn’t need much,” Sam continued, shining his flashlight in another cabinet. “He’d get—what?—two, maybe three hours in the car and that was enough. But that doesn’t work anymore, does it? Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t make him get a separate room.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know what,” Dean snapped, pointing a finger at his brother. “Just shut up. Because you don’t know what you’re talking about, and even if you did, it’s none of your damn business!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam sighed. “You’re right.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean scoffed and turned back to the pantry. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s gotta be hard to talk about it when you’ve still got both feet in the closet.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Without warning, Dean spun around, his fist colliding with his brother’s cheek. Sam staggered back, grabbing the counter for support.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What the hell, Dean?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I told you to shut your mouth!” he bellowed. “Now focus on the damn case or go wait in the car!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam glared at him, holding his cheek, and Dean gave him a smug grin. He really thought he won that argument. So much so, that he didn’t expect Sam to shove him the moment he turned his back. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean hit the floor hard, but not before catching his shoulder on the corner of the marble island. He heard his shirt rip as he went down, warm liquid seeping into the fabric. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Damnit, Sam!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!” Sam barked, pinning him to the ground. “You’re going to shut up and you’re gonna listen. I don’t know what exactly is going on with you two, but I’m not an idiot. I know this is all about Ben and Lisa and you, taking your anger out on anyone within a five mile radius. And it needs to stop, right now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Eat me,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam exhaled. “And if you can’t stop acting like an ass, then you need to end it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His breath hitched. Dean never really considered the whole ‘what-happens-if-we-break-up’ conversation, because it never seemed relevant. He never even considered that Cas would </span>
  </em>
  <span>want</span>
  <em>
    <span> to end things between them. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shit</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re my brother, and I love you,” Sam continued, ignoring the shock on his brother's face, “but you’re being a bitch—to Cas, of all people. And I have every right to say this because Cas is my family, too. So, you don’t get to turn him into your personal punching bag just because you feel like crap.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get. Off,” Dean ordered.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam took a deep, exasperated breath, but did as he was told. They finished the rest of their search in silence (a search that gave them no helpful information whatsoever) and cleaned up the bloody marble, before making their way back to Lisa’s. Sam’s eye was already turning purple and Dean was hoping she could loan them a few ice packs, since they didn’t exactly pack frozen peas for the road. And the cut on his arm wasn’t too bad—messy and hard to reach, but it probably didn’t need stitches.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They pulled into the driveway and waited for a moment. Sam was clearly waiting for something—and if it was an apology, he wasn’t getting one. It was Dean’s private life, damnit. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sam,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Cas and I…we’re…involved.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah,” Sam sighed, unamused, opening his car door . “I know.”   </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So how did this happen?” Lisa asked, sitting next to Dean with a first aid kit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Sam,” Dean chided. “How did this happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother sneered. “Dean tripped. He’s gotten really clumsy in his old age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bite me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa chuckled. “And how did you get that shiner?” she asked Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you see,” Dean mocked, “Sam’s so freakishly tall that he walked right into the doorframe. What an idiot.”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh,” Lisa said, trying not to laugh. “It doesn’t look too deep,” she added, dabbing his wound with gauze. “Turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did as he was told, turning his back towards her and facing his stupidly tall brother. Sam was biting his lower lip, but unable to stop the boyish grin from appearing on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Dean snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without warning, Lisa’s boney finger poked him in the back, right between the shoulder blades. She giggled, and that’s when Dean realized. He had seen them when he showered yesterday morning, and judging by the look on Sam’s face, his back was still covered in hickeys. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So much for not leaving marks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been busy,” Lisa jeered, poking what he assumed to be another mark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glared at his brother. “Thanks a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s smile widened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Lisa continued, interrupting Dean’s retort, “Is this the result of something more…consistent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean buried his face in his hands and groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touchy subject?” she whispered to Sam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not…” Dean sighed. “Yeah. I guess it’s kinda consistent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa smiled. “That’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Dean. I’m happy for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they know what you do?” she pressed. “The whole hunting thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he huffed. “They’re pretty involved in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. And how long has this ‘kinda consistent’ thing been going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s the complicated part,” he chuckled. “Longer than I thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She furrowed her brow, but deciding whatever it was wasn’t worth asking. “Uh-huh. Well, I think you’re good to go. I’ll go get you one of Mark’s shirts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he muttered as she disappeared through the doorway. He turned to Sam and saw that stupid grin yet again. “What?” he snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinda consistent?” Sam teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa came back and tossed a plain, grey T-shirt into Dean’s lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on, your bandage is lifting,” she said, sitting back down beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas and Ben walked through the door just as she finished taping the bandage back down. Both had boyish grins on their faces and Dean was pretty sure he smelled booze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Adorable little rule-breaker</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, sliding into the shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, they needed to talk tonight. Dean needed to do something—anything to make this better. Sam was right, Cas didn’t deserve whatever outburst Dean through at him. But there was no way in hell that he was ending it. Not a chance. He had to fix it, but he just wasn’t sure how.    </span>
</p><p>
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